I'll go into my mind and close the door,
And you'll not bother me anymore.
You'll think that I'm here
But I'm off and gone,
I'm not with anyone,
I'm alone.

All alone in my quiet head,
Where there's trees and stars and a trundle bed,
And gentle music and ancient tales,
And milk maids carrying shiny pails,
And distant bells on the evening air,
And it's quiet and good and you're not there.

All alone in my quiet head,
Where there's words that nobody ever said,
And songs that nobody ever heard,
Sung in the night by the emperor's bird,
In a dreamed-of land that is strange and fair,
And it's quiet and good and you're not there.